Drowning Sorrows
by OdinsTeardrops
Summary: HD dont read if you dont like. Harry and Draco get widly drunk and...well...read and youll find out.


"Harry, Harry," the voice in his ear buzzed, "You have to come back! You can't just sit here staring at the bottom of a bottle all day.

He raised his arm and gave a distracted push at the warmth beside him. "Go away 'mione. You'll just get hurt if you stay round me. Leave me lone."

He reached forward and drained the contents of his glass in one gulp, another sob bursting forth from his chest. It was so unfair, he thought while gazing at the empty glass. Everyone and everything he loved kept dying in front of his eyes. He was so full of pain that he didn't think he would ever feel good again.

He signaled the barkeeper, who just sighed and refilled his glass again. The stuff didn't make the pain go away, but it took the edge off. He heard someone sob behind him, "I can't watch you do this to yourself." Hermione ran across the tavern and threw open the door, dashing out into the pouring rain, where her salty tears fell freely into the muddy soil.

Draco stomped along the muddy road, weaving an unsteady trail through the muck. He was looking for another bar, having been thrown out of three already for "unruly behavior." Who did they think they were, telling a Malfoy to leave, how to behave? Why when his father….his father, now _there_ was a thought to make his lip curl up into a sneer. After all the work he had put in, everything he had done, his father had no right to call him a failure, a slur on the Malfoy name. How _dare_ he treat Draco like he was some common mudblood! He was a _Malfoy_, a pureblood son of a pureblood son back for generations and his father had no right to treat him like that.

He reached another bar, but before he could get close, the door slammed open and someone came running out, sobbing. Whoever it was, they only got about three feet before tripping and falling in the mud. As they rose, he realized it was Granger. He giggled suddenly, finding it hilariously funny. A mud covered mudblood, he thought, could things get any more amusing. He giggled uncontrollably for a few minutes before stumbling inside the tavern.

He strode over to the only open stool with less than his usual grace. Ordering a Cajun Martini, a Black hole, and a few shots of Black Dragon, he started tossing them back one at a time, regaining what little of his buzz he had lost between bars. He made short work of his drinks and ordered more, all on the Malfoy tab of course. His father would be infuriated at the bills he was racking up, which gave Malfoy a thrill along his spine. He wanted his father to regret every single thing he had said, and the quickest way to his father's heart was through his gold. Draco intended to stab that heart with all the spite and rage he could muster. He would do anything to enrage his father at this point, and the more it would make his father angry, the more he would enjoy it.

He turned as he drank down his next set of drinks, and that's when he noticed the person next to him was getting just as drunk as he was, but was much farther along. The stench of alcohol permeated him, showing that this wasn't the first night he'd drowned his sorrows in here. The man turned to order another drink, and Draco caught sight of his face, it was Potter! Who would have thought that wonder-boy Potter would be getting roaring drunk in the middle of the night. And were those _tears_ on his face! What the hell was going on with the all powerful Potter? Draco's next round arrived, so he shrugged and went back to his drinks, but in the back of his mind a plan was stirring. It may have just been the alcohol, but somewhere inside he was thinking of something that would _really_ make his father angry.

Over the next twenty minutes he managed to get totally buzzed, his though processes went from muddy to a complete morass. At least he was experienced enough with being drunk that he could tell when he had reached his limit. A glance beside him told him that either Potter didn't possess that skill or simply didn't care that he was just shy of dropping where he sat. Potter was sitting with his chin up on the bar, staring with glazed eyes at the beads of condensation on his glass.

Something about his disconsolate expression decided the little plotting voice inside Draco. He reached a hand over and rubbed it in Potter's…in Harry's dirty hair. Potter made a drunken sigh, and Draco snatched his hand back. When Potter just sat there, still staring at his glass, Draco became mildly annoyed. One did not ignore the presence of Draco Malfoy. He grabbed the sides of Harry's head, pulled him up in one swift motion, and kissed him fiercely on the lips. Some part of his mind that was still rational thought, _what the hell am I doing? _


End file.
